Everlasting Heartache
by Demonwing12846
Summary: You never know the worth of what you’ve got until it’s gone, forever out of reach.


Title: Everlasting Heartache

Author: Demonwing ©  
Date: 10-31-2005  
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. Aoki Takao, D-rights, and all affiliates, are the creators and genius behind them. The story/plot contained within this fic/piece, however, is all mine! Bwahahaha!  
Warnings: Male-Slash, Romance, Lime, Angst, Suicide.  
Fandom: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade  
Pairings: Kai x Takao  
Type: One-Shot  
OCs: None… Dammit!  
Summary: You never know the worth of what you've got until it's gone… Forever out of reach.  
Beta/Editor: Purkle-sama (bows profusely)  
Words: 3784

Takao's POV

I stand with my eyes closed and my head tilted back, allowing the spray of the shower to pelt against my aching chest. Fervently praying to the deities above that the water will wash away all traces of the tears that I shed in your memory, and ease the pain in my heart. But I know better. There will be no relief for me, none what so ever, as the tears continue to trail down my cheeks. My heart constricts, as if someone is squeezing it within the palm of their hand, and in essence, they are. Or more specifically, you are. A hiccough escapes my lips…

"Why?… Why does it hurt so bad?"

I furiously wipe at my face with the back of my arm, silently demanding the newly forming teardrops away. But they don't listen, preferring instead to fall down my cheeks unbidden.

"Why can't I just forget?"

Thoroughly frustrated, I reach over and twist the knobs until the spray of the shower stops. Wrapping my hands around I brutally twist my hair, wringing out the excess water as my fingers slide down to the ends. Stepping out of the shower, I grab my robe from the hook on the tiled wall and loosely tie it around my waist before walking to my room.

Walking down the hall, I can't help but be relieved that I am the only one home. I'm not really in the mood to deal with anyone at the moment. Whenever my brother and Gramps are around, they both go to the extremes to get me to leave my room, the house, or just… be with my friends. Right now, I don't want that. How can they expect me to move throughout the day, when all I want to do is crawl in a corner and cry? Or better yet… die?

Standing in front of my door, I give it a slight shove and walk into the darkness at the center of the room. Plopping down on the floor at the foot of my bed, I light a few candles, and then pick up an old photograph of you that I have been staring at ever since you left Bey City. Caressing the visage with my thumb, I reach over and pick up the bottle of Sake that I had brought up from the kitchen earlier. Opening the bottle, I take a long swig. The dark, reddish liquid burning as it flows down my throat. I cough, still holding the bottle as I continue to stare and stroke the image of the one person I love more than my own life, the one that I know to be my very soul.

"Why do you still haunt me?"

You, with your two-toned, slate colored hair. You, with those deep purple eyes that would convey even the tiniest of emotions, while the rest of your facial features remained solid and stoic. You, with those same damnable clothes that you wore day-after-day; with those cargo pants and buckled shirts, as well as your long, flowing, scarf blowing every which way as if the two ends were some sort of wings on your back…

"I miss you!"

Lifting the bottle of Sake, I take another, much longer swallow, the tears in my eyes starting anew. Chancing a look in the mirror tacked on the back of my door, I'm not surprised one bit to see my soulless brown eyes staring straight back at me as I recall…

Five years. It's been five years since that fateful day. The day that we decided to take a chance and step over the line of friendship and try dating.

Our first and only date…

I remember the whole event so vividly, as if it had transpired only yesterday. It all seemed so perfect. Everything. From the time you picked me up at Gramps', to the walk in the park, stopping to talk as we sat on one of the benches by the fountain. Not the normal talking that we would usually do, you know, about Bey Blading and stuff… But about little things. Actually taking the time to get to know some of the many things we never knew about each other.

The way you laughed as I pigged out when you took me to dinner. I must admit, that place… It was rather ritzy. I was surprised that you were not at all embarrassed, or phased by the other people as they whispered and gawked over my less than cordial manners and casual attire.

How when we entered the movie theater, you grabbed onto the back of my jacket before I could pass the back row, silently imploring me to walk and sit in that very isle. So I did. We didn't bring any popcorn or drinks with us, after all, we had just eaten. That, and it was probably for the best, because as the theater darkened, and the movie progressed, I noticed your body shift. At first, I thought maybe you were uncomfortable, and didn't want to be there, close to me. Or that perhaps it was my imagination. However, I soon began to realize that you were worming your way closer; the feel of your cold fingers scarcely touching mine, shaking, clearly unsure, made my heart race within my chest. I neither breathed, or moved, afraid that if I had done so, I would have frightened you back into your shell. So I waited, in silent agony, hoping that your fingers would brush further against my own. They did, this time with a little more assurance. Then, as I had anticipated, when I moved my own fingers, you became as skittish as a bird, and tried desperately to retreat. I would have none of it though, and instead, held fast, linking our fingers and bringing our sweaty palms against one another. Only after leaning my head slightly against your shoulder did I let out the breath that I had been holding.

After one of the scenes, I felt you shift again, this time unlocking our fingers. For a moment I felt bereft, and completely lost, until I realized that you had only let our hands go so that you could place your arm around my shoulders.

I gladly took the bait.

Slowly lifting the chair's arm, which was the only thing separating us at the moment, I wrapped my own arms around your mid-section, trying to hide the small snicker that escaped my lips as you started in your seat. "What are you laughing about?" you had asked gruffly. I just shook my head in response, then laid it to fully rest on your shoulder, inhaling the musky mixture of your aftershave and cologne as I snuggled in closer. Feeling a little bold, I leaned my face in and nuzzled; barely brushing my lips on a spot below your ear where I could clearly feel the thrum of your pulse against my lips. A shiver coursed through your body, and this time, your head turned towards mine. The warmth of your breath gently wafted across my cheek as you pulled me even closer into you. Slowly, softly, you trailed your fingers up and down my arm, causing my flesh to goose-pimple, and my heart to soar. Obviously I wasn't the only one. I could feel your heart pound beneath your shirt as I moved my hand up across your chest until I could wrap my fingers in your hair. I planted a few more kisses below your ear before teasingly licking your earlobe, nibbling on it just a bit to see how you'd react.

I still get shivers up my spine to this day just thinking about it.

While I sucked on your earlobe, I heard a small, indecipherable, moan escape your lips. Then you moved; your whole body shifting until you were half sitting on your hip, facing me. I broke away from kissing and sucking on your ear for a moment, looking into your eyes. I didn't know quite what to expect, but I wasn't counting on you wrapping your arm around my waist and pulling me in until our bodies almost touched, a few scarce inches between them as you stared into my own eyes for a moment. You had a certain look behind those glassy orbs, one that caused my body to tremble, and my heart to pound harder; yet, I was still uncertain as to if it was what I thought. Leaning in slowly, as if in fear of my reaction, you brushed your lips against mine. A light, airy kiss that nearly caused my breath to stop. Lifting one hand, I let it travel up your chest before placing it on the back of your neck. Pressing our lips harder together, I tried to convey that I wanted more, that I wanted whatever it was that you were willing to give me. You must have gotten the hint, because the next thing I knew, your tongue was brushing against my lips, asking silently for access into my mouth. I gladly replied by opening my mouth, slowly, loving every moment as the warmth of your tongue caressed my own, as well as the rest of my mouth; pillaging, plundering, taking every ounce of my breath away. Then before I could even start to catch it, you took the hand of your free arm and placed it on my leg, slightly squeezing my outer thigh before working your way up to my hip. All I could do at that point was to softly moan my appreciation into your mouth, as it still covered mine in a combination of an open-mouthed kiss and the soft sucking of each others lips.

Your hand, which was now resting on my hip, gave my flesh another squeeze before pulling my shirt out of my pants. Working its way underneath, it then traveled up my exposed skin, sending shivers and goose-bumps to wrack my frame. That's when I lost all reasoning. I could no longer think , not with your tongue within my mouth, and the fingers that had so mischievously found one of my nipples, tickling, pinching and rubbing the poor nub until it was harder that what it was when we had first entered the theater. A small, quiet cry escaped my lips unbidden, and I could feel your lips abandon mine, and the warmth of your breath as you spoke softly into my ear, "Try and keep quiet if you can." Then you licked my earlobe, working on the same spot below mine, as I had done with yours earlier. "That is…" you started to whisper once more, "Unless you want the few people who are sitting in here to hear you." I immediately bit my lip, trying my damnedest not to mewl or cry out as your tongue and lips worked their way down my neck, and your hand moved down to the waistband of my jeans.

I wrapped both of my arms around your neck as I felt you unsnap and zip down my jeans; both fear and curiosity taking over my mind. I had never done anything like this before, and knew very little about intimacy between two guys. Locking our lips together once more, you fully opened my jeans, bypassing my boxers in order to give your hand complete access to what lay within. Running your hand along my backside, you lightly caressed the crevice in the center before tenderly squeezing my ass. This time I couldn't control the moan that escaped my lips. Thankfully, your mouth was over mine at the time, and the errant noise was muffled, saving both you and I from embarrassment. Especially you, for I had a feeling that if something had grasped someone's attention, you would have never forgiven me. After all, you're such a stickler for privacy. When I felt your sweaty palm move around my hip and grasp my penis, however, I could only move in closer. I almost placed myself in your lap as I hungrily invaded your mouth; my own sweaty palms on the back of your neck and twisted in your shirt as your fist began a pumping motion. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and far better than my own hand, that's for sure. But it felt so good, so right, and all I wanted at that moment was for the feeling to never end. As we all know, however, everything must come to an end eventually, whether we want them to, or not. Your continuous pumping, and my bucking into your hand left very little time before I climaxed, my seed coating your hand as well as your name falling from my lips.

That's when I managed to make the single, biggest mistake of my life.

A few minutes afterwards, when we had both caught our breath, I laid my head upon your shoulder, making the largest confession I had ever made in my life. "I love you, Kai." Those three words, and it was like an hour glass had been tipped, and that time had stopped. Not gaining a response, and the fact that you were stock still, I lifted my head from its resting spot and tried to look you in the eyes. But you wouldn't look at me. In fact, you wouldn't face me at all. Clearing your throat, you had managed a raspy, "I have to go to the Restroom," and left.

That was the last time I saw you. You never came back, leaving me there to wonder what I did wrong. I still wonder to this day if I had done something wrong. I mean, if I hadn't, you'd be here now, right? The tears in my eyes start to well up again, and I continue to stare at your picture, my thumb caressing your figure once more.

"Why? Why can't I get over you? Why does it still hurt so bad?"

Turning my attention back to my other hand, I bring the bottle of Sake back up to my lips, drinking what was left of the reddish-brown liquid. I then throw the empty bottle to slam against the mirror on my door, both of the glass items shattering into tiny fragments before landing upon the floor.

"What will it take to cease this, everlasting heartache?"

Holding your picture close to my heart, I gaze down at the floor where, beside my leg, my brother's razor sits. He sharpens it quite often, so I don't need to test it in order to know if it's sharp or dull. I pick the blade up, contemplating the knife like object for a moment. I have no doubt that it will get the job done.

"Will you miss me, Kai? Will anyone miss me when I'm gone?"

I don't really care whether everyone else will miss me or not. The only one I'm concerned with is the keeper of my heart. Somewhere, deep down inside, something tells me that he doesn't miss me now, and that he never will. My chest aches, and tears run down my cheeks as I place the blade at the edge of my wrist vertically. I then receive a moment of clarity. It's hard to explain, but at this point, I feel completely calm, and perhaps even numb as I take the blade and pierce my skin, cutting a straight, deep, line up my arm. I then lay your picture down to do the same to my other arm. Carefully sitting the blade back in its spot on the floor next to me, I pick your photo back up, staring at it long before the blood on my arms gains my attention. I am not afraid, and am no longer crying. In fact, I'm mesmerized by the red liquid as it runs in rivulets down my arms, aware that in fact, I will die soon. I will no longer have to suffer the never ending ache within my chest. I'm so focused on the beauty of it all, that I don't even realize the fact that I'm becoming lightheaded. All I know, is that it burns. Like all the passion that once resided in me, the passion that resided in you, is flowing out and spilling about. I'm aware of the flashes before my eyes. Red flashes of things that have happened in the past, and that have happened not too long ago. Flashes of things that I had always wished for… And then… Then I see her… I see… Dranzer. Crying, coming before me in order to wrap her red, velvety wings around me… Then everything before me turns red… 

Kai's POV

Blood… Everywhere I look there is blood. Why? What does this all mean? I'm suddenly afraid to move, to step on the reddish liquid. Something tells me that if I do, something that I fear will be revealed. Looking about, there is not one inch of the space I'm in that is not covered in red, except for the space I occupy.

It's obvious to me that this is a dream, but why I'm having it remains to be seen.

Next I hear crying, and I recognize who the person is immediately. After all, I've heard him cry more times than I can count. But where is he? And what does he have to do with this dream? Suddenly, I'm bombarded with flashes. Flashes of my past, of my time with the Blade Breakers, of my time as a rival against my own team… The pain and betrayal in his eyes as I stood across from him, waiting to battle with him in hopes of regaining my title as World Champ. Turning around, I started to wonder if any of this would make sense when a swirl of red proceeded to coalesce, reminding me with vivid pictures of the time that Takao and I went on a… Date? I watched everything avidly, trying to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together, but fear gripped me, and I turned my back on it all.

Then he appeared.

Standing before me was not the boy I once knew. In fact, I haven't seen him for so long, that I could only assume that it was Takao, period. I was awestruck, for he appeared as beautiful as he was five years ago, if not more so. He was rather thin. His eyes were vacant, no longer holding all of the vibrant, jovial personality that his soul harbored in the past. Did I do this to him?

"Is this dream… Is this all because of me? Is this because I left?"

I didn't receive an answer. In fact, I became even more disturbed as the scene changed, and I saw him sitting on the floor of his room, at the foot of his bed. He was drinking, which was unlike him from what I remember, and holding a picture. Walking around to stand behind him, I realized that the picture was of me. Adverting my gaze, more out of confusion than anything, I saw something shiny and looked down to find a razor. Everything now fitting into place, I looked down at his arms, horrified as I witnessed blood pouring out of them. I could have sworn there wasn't any blood on him a moment ago. But then again, perhaps… Perhaps I hadn't paid enough attention. Like all those years ago. Another revelation struck me as well. Takao just cut himself… In fact, I could surmise that he definitely wanted to die.

But why…

"Will you miss me, Kai? Will anyone miss me when I'm gone?"

Hearing him utter those words, I fell to my knees. The same words echoing over and over in my mind as Dranzer flew by, wrapping her grand, red wings around him as if to comfort and ease his pain. **  
"Will you miss me, Kai?"**

I wanted to tell him that yes, I would miss him. I wanted to call him an idiot, and tell him that I loved him then. I still do. I wanted to tell him that my leaving him five years ago was not his fault, that it was mine. I thought that if I stuck around, if things continued to progress like they had that night, that I would be contaminating his innocence. I didn't want that. That's what I loved most about him. But I didn't tell him.

Before I could answer his question, however, red contaminated my vision; and before I knew it, I was sitting up-right in my bed. Panting and sweating like I never had before. Lifting one of my hands, I realized that it was shaking, but disregarded for a moment as I ran it over my face, and through my hair, hoping to just wipe the horror from my memory. However, it seemed as though I couldn't quiet my conscience long enough for me to just knock it off as some sort of coincidence. So I got up from my bed, and reached underneath for my duffel bag. Retrieving it, I walked over to my chest of drawers, digging out every bit of my clothing and shoving it in the bag as quick as I could.

Perhaps if I go back… And explain things to him… Perhaps he'll accept what I have to say and give me one more chance. I want to believe it. I want to believe it so bad. But something is telling me that he won't. That I'm too late. Packing the last of my stuff I stop to look around the room, certain that I was forgetting something when the phone rang, causing me to jump where I stood. Picking up the receiver I cleared my throat.

"Hello…"

"Kai? Is that you?" A hoarse voice asked.

Not recognizing the voice at first, I answered rather gruffly. "Yeah. Who is this? And what do you want?"

"Kai, this is Hitoshi."

Now recognizing who I was speaking to, I sat up stiff as a board, my worst fears coming back as a shiver raced up my spine. "Hitoshi? What is it?" I asked weakly. "Does this have to do with Takao?" There were a few moments of silence, as if he were trying to gain back his composure before he answered me.

"Kai… Takao's dead."

"What?" I croaked out in shock.

"He committed suicide sometime last night, while Grandpa and I were gone."

My arm went numb, and before I could ask any more questions, before I could even gain any ounce of coherency, I heard Dranzer cry once more. My vision turned completely red. I let the receiver hit the floor, and passed out. 

**The End**

Copyright © Demonwing 


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